


By the (Hand)Book

by boltlightning



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Gen, and gently tease ed, roy and riza as ed and al's parents, team mustang here to help
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22639981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boltlightning/pseuds/boltlightning
Summary: Ed and Al join Roy and Riza's Dungeons and Dragons campaign. Ed and Roy argue. Everyone else deals with it.(featuring Team Mustang as D&D veterans, Breda as their ever-so-patient DM, and the brothers as their newest recruits.)
Relationships: Background Roy/Riza
Comments: 3
Kudos: 45





	By the (Hand)Book

_The party comes to a beautiful forest. A creek runs near their feet, babbling and bubbling as small, swift freshwater fish glide through the clear water. The surrounding forest is too dense for the whole group to traverse, so they stick to the worn path, trimming back brambles as they go. There are flowers budding, their perfume fresh and thick in the air — spring is blossoming, the frost on the foliage melting to dew in the warm breeze._

_As the party crosses into a small clearing, the peace shatters. The forest shudders, and the earth groans beneath their feet. Roots rip from the ground and two trees force themselves free from the previously perfect grass. The sky darkens as the two creatures, known as treants, tower over the seven adventurers._

_The timid gnome, surprisingly, is the first to jump into action. He slings his lute around to his chest and strums up a frenzied little ditty, his voice fraught — the party feels his anxiety, but become awash with militaristic inspiration. A slender half-elf by his side notches a dangerous barbed arrow in her longbow. With calm, practiced movements, she draws back the arrow and holds it steady. Before she fires, she clicks her tongue, nodding in the direction of the closest treant._

_At her signal, a black wolf launches from the shadows, snarling; it leaps, scrambles for purchase on the writhing bark, and digs its teeth into the thick arm of the treant. With it distracted and roaring in pain, the ranger fires, murmuring under her breath as the arrow flies. A burst of flame erupts from the point of contact, embedding its dangerous arrowhead into the scorched surface of the tree. The wolf jumps to the ground and narrowly misses a swing from the wounded treant, and retreats back to his mistress._

_An armored human with a billowing black cape steps up beside the half-elf, his face set grimly. He nods to her and touches her arm briefly, then draws his longsword. The holy symbol etched into his glove glows, and with a shout from the human, his sword, too, bursts into white, radiant flame. It takes the shape of a scimitar, curving dangerously from the edge of his silver sword. The paladin charges, trampling the lush grass underfoot as he—_

"Wait, hold on." Ed looks up from his stacks of papers and glares at the man down the table, his brow furrowed. "You used a level 2 Divine Smite last battle — shouldn't you be out of spell slots?"

Roy, the paladin, sighs and leans back in his chair. He picks up his mug of stale coffee and glowers at the teen over the rim. "I have two second-level spell slots at this level. I’ll be out after this round."

“But you cast Cure Wounds at the end of the last encounter.”

“Yeah, as a _first_ -level spell.”

"If you two are quite done," Breda interjects, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently, "you need to roll for damage, Sir Ignatius."

As Roy gathers his dice, Ed continues. "I'm just saying — attacking something with a blade on fire isn't the most narratively fun attack. You can use your spell slots for more useful things like, I don't know, buffs?"

Jean, sitting down the table next to Roy, groans. "This again?"

"It happens every week," Fuery mutters. He takes his glasses off and rubs at his eyes.

The Mustangs, Roy and Riza, had taken the orphaned Elrics under their wings a few months ago, and the two brothers had proven intelligent and crafty beyond belief. During their first few weeks in their new home, they preferred to bar themselves up in Roy's extensive, if disorganized, personal library when not attending school. Breda's weekly Dungeons and Dragons campaign eventually continued once the brothers were settled in, but to Roy's surprise, they had expressed interest in joining the game. Riza guessed that they'd encountered Roy’s dense collection of handbooks, and their contents piqued the brothers' interest. In her eyes, this is a good way of getting the two to get to know, trust, and work together with other adults.

Most of the time, it's enjoyable. Ed's dragonborn barbarian and Al's tiefling cleric joined the party without hindrance, and learned the rules quickly. The rest of the time, especially in combat, it gives Roy and Ed another excuse to argue.

"You're a barbarian," Roy scoffs. Riza, next to him, puts a hand on his arm in warning, but he doesn't heed it. "All you do is go into a rage and attack whatever's prone. 8 damage from my sword, Breda, and 11 from Smite."

"Sounds good," the dungeon master notes, and jots it down. "It's looking pretty rough. Next in the order: Jean."

"Yeah, and Rage _works_ ," Ed huffs at Roy. "At least I do something."

"While they're arguing," Jean continues, under the conversation, "I'm gonna try and steal some of Ed's goods. He's chaotic evil, so I don't feel bad about it. And I know he’s got treasure."

"Roll a sleight of hand check." Breda looks at Ed, who is now arguing with Roy over the practicality of using the same axe for the entire campaign. "And you know what, you get advantage on the roll. He's pretty distracted."

"It's not like I'll need it — rogues are stealthy, stealthy boys." He rolls his die; the clatter is enough to startle Ed to attention. "That is a 20. Oh, and...I add 10 to that, so 30."

Fuery snorts; Falman ducks his head to hide his smile. "Alright, Havoc — Beau sneaks his hand into Brutus’ bag while he argues heatedly with Sir Ignatius. In fact, the maneuver is so stealthy, it surprises Beau himself. He’s mentally cheering to himself as he successfully pilfers a magic gemstone from our last adventure, worth 700 gold."

"Hey!" Ed turns the fury of his glare to Jean, who is smugly relaxing in his chair. "I'm gonna attack Beau for stealing my stuff."

"It's not your turn," Breda says flatly.

"And you didn't see him do it," Riza reminds him. "If Roy and I can't metagame, you can't either."

"Breda just told me!"

"Maybe if you'd been paying attention, you could've rolled to spot it," Breda says calmly, but his smirk belies his true feelings. Ed scowls and slouches in his chair. "Next up — our favorite eleven sorcerer. Vato Falman, what have you and August the Wary baked up for our angry trees?"

While Falman’s sorcerer attacks the treants, Ed grumbles, "If I hadn't been arguing with Sir Bastard over here, I'd still have my emerald."

"Oh, this is my fault?"

"Yeah! You always have to pick a fight!"

"In all fairness, you did start this one, Ed," Riza interjects nonchalantly. Roy and Ed do get along when it s just the four of them — she doesn't understand why the two get so fired up over a game with magic elves and fiery swords, but they always butt heads about the most inane rules. It's exhausting.

"I did, I guess, but his character—"

"—is doing a damn fine job," Roy finishes for him, sneering.

"Hey, Falman just killed a tree with Fire Bolt." Breda looks over at the two bickering players, his expression set in its usual deadpan. "I hate to say it, but Ed — it's your turn."

"I'm gonna attack the rogue."

"What?! Why?" Havoc swings his feet off the table and presses a hand to his chest in mock surprise. “Beau Highhill? _The_ Beau Highhill? The saintliest of halflings?"

"Well, if he's such a saint, he wouldn't have stolen my treasure," Ed maintains, through gritted teeth.

"We've already established that your character doesn't know that, Ed." Breda's voice is patient, as always, but the dungeon master's expression is darkening. "Choose another action."

"Okay — I'll attack Sir Bastard then."

Roy shrugs, and leans back in his chair to it stands on just its back two feet. "As you wish, dragonborn."

Ed shakes the dice in his hand for an unnecessary amount of time, then — "Hmm. 16 versus armor?"

"Ha! That's a miss."

“Your second attack?” Breda prompts.

His dice clatter again. “Aw, hell — 14 isn’t gonna do it.”

“No,” Roy agrees, smiling, “it isn’t.”

"Alright. So Brutus, having been arguing with Ignatius for the last two entire goddamn sessions, takes a swing at him — but Ignatius puts his soldier training to use and jumps out of the way. The axe catches his armor and leaves a little scuff in it, but he recovers enough to avoid Brutus’ next swing as well." Breda glares at the two of them, standing now with his palms flat against the table. "Are you two idiots done now?"

Ed looks to the side, sulking. "We'll see."

"Fine. Al, you've been awful quiet, but you're up next."

Al sits between Ed and Fuery, and has been considering his sheets of stats and abilities quietly. He picks up his spell sheet and looks at Breda, his expression neutral. "This is not a joke: I want to cast Sleep on Ed's character."

There is a brief silence that is quickly broken by Jean's sharp bark of laughter. The group dissolves into giggles and howls and snorts as Ed objects shrilly, "My own brother! I can't believe this!"

"I'm sorry, Brother, but we're gonna get crushed by this tree if you keep trying to kill Mr. Roy."

"He makes a fair point," Falman agrees, grinning at the boy. Ed is still sulking about, his head ducked low, but Al can see he's hiding a faint smile behind the collar of his hoodie. For all the teasing, Ed did make his character chaotic evil for a reason; while it does give him a chance to go toe-to-toe with the resident paladin, it proposed interesting, if sometimes annoying, challenges to the group.

The dragonborn barbarian Brutus is put to sleep, and Fuery's gnome bard assists Riza's ranger in slaying the remaining treant. Ed begrudgingly lets the party carry his slumbering character to the next area as they cheer about their victory. Beau, with a devious grin from Havoc, replaces the emerald in the barbarian’s pouch as they walk.

"I still think Divine Smite is overrated," Ed announces as the party crosses the clearing. Across the table, Roy smirks.

"Fair enough."

**Author's Note:**

> this was a small thing i wrote three years ago and finally decided to clean up while i work on, uh...other AUs that also happen to be posted on this site.
> 
> the full roster of player characters and their descriptions:
> 
> Ed: Brutus Strongarm, dragonborn barbarian. Chaotic evil.  
> Al: Steady, tiefling cleric. Neutral good.  
> Riza: Valanthe, nicknamed Hawk’s Eye by the party in homage to Riza’s maiden name. Half-elf ranger. Black wolf familiar, named for her dog, Hayate. Neutral good.  
> Roy: Sir Ignatius Swiftstrike, human paladin. Lawful neutral, but Roy mostly plays him as lawful good.  
> Havoc: Beau Highhill, halfling rogue. "Chaotic good", but veers heavily chaotic neutral.  
> Falman: August the Wary, high elf sorcerer. True neutral.  
> Fuery: Veit Hightower, known as Stringfellow in some circles, gnome bard. Lawfull good.  
> Breda: Their tough but fair dungeon master.


End file.
